First
by Icicle Raindream
Summary: Luke and Noah reaffirm their positions in each other's lives.


Disclaimer: I do not own anything of As the World Turns. No profit is being made from this.

Notes: I have no idea where this came from. Honestly. I sat down with one tiny undefined scene in my head and it turned into this. :-) Consequently, I ended up staying awake till four a.m. to finish it! Totally had an awesome time writing, though. :-) And Blue October's "Congratulations" makes great background music. I'm pretty sure that song is why this fic turned out the way it did.

Also, my sister Honey (LunaSempai) and I have long debated the notion of Noah's sexual preference. Mostly we just want to give him some more credibility, so I went with what we had discussed. It's not exactly canon with the show (although it still works, considering), so please take the description with a grain of salt. :-)

Hope you enjoy! Please drop me a line if you do!

* * *

First

"So…"

"So…"

"You read it?"

Noah nodded. "I read it." He held his copy up for Luke to see.

Luke gazed at the medium-sized hardcover in Noah's hand, the title emblazoned across the front. _Out of the Barn and Back: Life on the Snyder Farm_. He remembered discussing which font to use while in a meeting at the publishing house three weeks ago.

Noah shifted uncomfortably in front of him, in that fluid yet uneasy manner that Luke's brain had not permanently washed from his memories. It was almost as if Luke had seen Noah yesterday; his movements still seemed fresh to him.

"Want me to sign it?"

Noah's eyes had turned away from Luke's, but they darted back instantly at his voice. It took only a millisecond to return Luke's grin as he realized it was a joke.

Noah set the book down on the bar counter in front of him, slipping onto a stool. Luke slid in next to him, glad to have broken the tension. Meeting had been a complete accident tonight; neither man knew the other would be here, but when Noah had gone up to the bar to order drinks for his crew, Luke had been the one standing next to him, holding an ice-cold drink with the condensation running down his fingers. The two of them had turned almost in unison; Luke because he had recognized Noah's voice like a remnant from a dream, and Noah because the scent that was still distinctly Luke had invaded his senses.

"So, your crew is here?" Luke asked casually, sipping his drink. The two of them half-faced each other, knees almost touching.

Noah nodded, resting his right elbow on the bar. "We just finished shooting today. It's been a long and grueling job. Lots of traveling."

Luke glanced around and noticed a group of haggard-looking people lounging on a brown leather couch near the door of the bar. They were smiling and toasting at each other, clearly trying to relax. One woman with long dark hair in the group caught his eye, and he turned his face back to Noah.

"What's your film about?"

Noah sipped the beer that he had once ordered and promptly forgotten about the minute he'd locked eyes with Luke. He took a large breath and replied, "My father."

Luke looked at Noah in surprise. "You finally made it?" he asked in shock. "I didn't think you'd ever…"

Noah nodded into his lap. The subject was still a touchy one, but he was better with talking about it now. All the hard parts were over. "I finally made it. I talked to him in person just last week."

Luke sat back on his stool, Noah's revelation still churning in his brain. "Wow." He sipped his drink. "I'm proud of you. It must feel good have finally finished it."

Noah felt his chest burn with Luke's praise. "It does," he admitted. Though 'feel good' did not come close to describing how he felt. It was more like the albatross around his neck had finally been lifted over his head and cleanly tossed away.

Noah stole a glance at Luke, who was suddenly grinning at him. That grin that turned Luke's dimples up on his cheeks, that perfect smile of his. Even in the darkness, Luke's eyes shone. How Noah had gone this long without that face was a mystery he had yet to solve.

Noah studied his beer for a minute, then said, "I'm proud of you, too."

Luke cocked his head at Noah. "For what?"

Noah tapped the autobiography that rested in front of them on the bar. "For writing this. It's incredibly insightful and honest."

Luke sighed dramatically. "Who knew that tales of living on the farm could be so captivating?" he pondered aloud. Noah knew he was kidding.

Luke cleared his throat. "Seriously, though, it's not because of me. People only like it because of the story of Faith and Natalie chasing the two guys in Santa outfits."

Noah laughed into his lap, fingering his beer. He'd heard that story more times than he could count in the years they had been together, but it never got any less amusing. Luke always did have the most energetic, warm-hearted, and chaotic family in Oakdale.

The two men sat in silence for a moment, then Noah said carefully, "Thanks for not mentioning my name."

The sincerity in his tone was quiet but prominent, and Luke silently thanked himself for making that decision ages ago, when he'd started the first paragraphs of his manuscript. "I thought you'd appreciate the anonymity," Luke replied, resting a hand around his glass.

Noah nodded while over his shoulder towards the front door of the bar, the woman with the long brown hair caught Luke's eye again. Luke blinked and looked back to Noah, then turned his eyesight to the counter in front of them. Noah stared his beer down.

"Well…" Luke began. He drained his drink and glanced at his watch. It was quarter to two in the morning, and at this realization, he slid off his bar stool.

"Is it late?" Noah asked, glancing at his own watch. He, too, stood at the sight of the time, his jaw dropping somewhat.

Luke jerked his thumb over his shoulder, where a group of his own colleagues were huddled, laughing and toasting between them. "I better head back. I have to catch a flight back to Oakdale tomorrow."

Noah nodded, rubbing the dampness from his beer bottle on his jeans. "Right," he agreed, though Luke could hear the hesitation behind his tone. "I better get back as well…" He gestured to his friends behind them.

Luke noticed the brown-haired woman staring at him yet again. Her expression was blank, but her eyes were searching. She sat motionless, calmly holding her cocktail, but her posture told Luke that she desperately wanted the answer to the question in which she was dying to ask. Maybe she would even ask it the moment Noah arrived back at the couch.

"It was great seeing you," Luke offered, looking up at Noah and smiling in earnest.

Noah's chest burned again. No one on the planet had the smile that Luke had. The honesty in his grin made Noah's stomach feel like it was preparing to drop through to his feet.

"You too…Luke," Noah replied slowly, tasting the words as they left his mouth. It had been forever since Luke's graceful name had danced on Noah's tongue.

A moment of reluctance swept over them, but then Luke turned to go, to catch up to his friends. Noah watched him, and before he could stop himself or even understand his own reasoning, Noah's arm shot out, his hand grabbing onto Luke's jacket.

"Wait! Luke?"

Luke stopped in surprise, turning halfway back to Noah. Their eyes connected through the dim of the bar.

Noah resisted the urge to shy away. "Can I take you back to your hotel?"

An expression passed over Luke's face, which Noah immediately identified as amusement. No doubt Luke was entertaining some witty comebacks at Noah's sincere request, but he bit them down and instead answered, "Sure. That'd be great. It'll give us a chance to talk more."

"Yeah." Noah nodded in agreement, the hesitation still lacing his tone. He didn't want to push Luke too hard, for fear of…something. He didn't know what.

"Just give me a sec to let everyone know I'm leaving, all right?" Luke pointed to his friends behind him.

"Sure, no problem," Noah assured.

He watched as Luke returned to his group and said his goodbyes. Luke received hugs from everyone involved in his small celebration, some men, some women. They patted him heartily him on the back, whispered into his ears with gracious smiles, and Luke shared a small, choreographed handshake with a tall young man with shaggy blonde hair. The words "proud" and "happy for you" and "you're awesome, man" broke through the din of the patrons' chatter at the bar. Luke was undoubtedly loved by the bunch; that much was apparent to Noah.

Luke left his friends with a radiant grin, rejoining Noah at the bar. "Ready?"

Noah nodded. They walked away from the bar, towards the door, when Noah touched Luke quickly on the arm and said, "One minute."

Luke nodded as Noah stepped away from him towards the big brown couch. Noah announced his departure to the members of his group, all of whom looked up immediately at him in interest, and suddenly they were nodding in understanding and reaching out to him, the men sharing fist bumps, the ladies taking his hand and patting it congenially. The phrases "great job" and "we rocked it out" and "had an awesome time on this project" floated to Luke, breaking through the noise around him in the bar. Noah was clearly admired and revered by this group; that much was apparent to Luke.

The brown-haired woman once again studied Luke with her blank yet uninhibited stare as Noah rejoined him. Luke stared back at her, neither smiling nor glaring, then grinned at Noah as they made their way out the door, into the cool air of New York City. Briefly, Luke wondered if the woman would bother to crack the spine of the book Noah had left in her care. If she took any time at all to read the printed words, Luke's previous role in Noah's life would all but leap out of the book.

They walked in silence to the nearest A, C, E subway entrance. Luke's hotel was right off the train line, and Noah's apartment wasn't far behind Luke's stop. The air around them felt refreshing, the bar having been a little overheated, coupled with the alcohol that was now running through their bodies. Luke stretched and smiled at Noah, who watched him and smiled back. The silence was comforting and natural for both men.

The train came almost as soon as they stepped on the platform, which Noah chuckled about as they stepped on and slid onto the plastic bench seat. He muttered something about "well, _this_ never happens at this hour," and Luke laughed at his bewildered expression. They once again fell into silence as the train pulled away on the tracks for the next stop.

Luke watched the subway doors open and close once before he asked, "So…what's her name?"

Noah looked over his shoulder at Luke, his eyes wide. How did he always know these things?

Luke laughed as the train pulled to a hard stop and he slid into Noah, their legs connecting on the bench. Noah's heat had been fragmented in Luke's memory, but with this new touch it seared back through him with a familiarity that was almost daunting.

"C'mon, she was glaring at me the whole time we were talking," Luke continued amiably, nudging Noah, trying to ignore his body heat. "Tell me."

Noah stared in front of them, at the empty bench across the aisle, contemplating words. "She's…" He floundered in a manner that led Luke to believe he'd tried debunking the woman's role in his life many times before. "She's an exercise," he finally replied.

The train doors slid open and closed once again. "An exercise?" Luke repeated, his brow wrinkling in confusion.

"Yeah," Noah replied honestly. "You know…in finding the right one."

_The right one_. Luke rolled the sentence over in his head. For Noah, it was more like the _happy ending_, he knew. The right one simply wouldn't suffice.

Luke nodded at Noah to let him know he understood, but his brain quickly flashed back to the conversation they'd had, years ago, about one another's sexual orientation. Noah had described himself as gender-blind. He loved the _person_, and the gender had no bearing or consequence. He'd fallen in love with _Luke_ once, not a boy, and now, he was falling in love with…with…whatever her name was, some unclassified girl.

Luke broke from his thoughts. "She's clearly in love with you. I'd expect an interrogation when you see her next."

Noah's mouth curled up in a half-smile at Luke's frankness. "That'd be nothing new," he responded. Their knees slipped apart on the smooth bench and then slid right back to their previous position as the train doors opened and closed yet again.

Their comfortable silence resumed. Luke remembered how, sometimes, back when they shared an apartment in Oakdale, Noah's silences were so heavy, so laden with unspoken words, drenched in thick emotion, that Luke could sit next to him on the couch for five hours without speaking a word to him and feel like it was the best conversation they'd ever had. Their silence now was starting to take this shape again, forming into a memory Luke would never be able to articulate to someone who was not himself or Noah.

The train pulled to a quick stop and Luke glanced out the window to the street number on the platform wall. "This is me," he said, standing up.

Noah stood with him, an action Luke hadn't expected, but he didn't complain as they exited the train together. Noah followed Luke towards the correct set of stairs, which would put him right across the street from the hotel at which he was staying till the morning.

They climbed the stairs together, Noah following leisurely behind Luke, who suddenly stopped and turned, looking down at him.

"You don't have to come with me all the way," he said, an expression of guilt sliding over his face. "It's just right across the street."

Noah looked up at him, those blue eyes catching the light thrown down the stairwell from the streetlamps nearby. "It's okay," he replied, waving his hand. "The train's already gone anyway."

Luke contemplated his answer for a minute, then turned and continued climbing. Before they reached the summit of the stairs, Luke stopped and turned back to Noah again.

"It's okay, really," he insisted. "I don't want you to miss the next train."

Noah suddenly grinned at him, recognizing that bashful look Luke always presented when he was honestly trying to be truthful with his words, but clearly wanted something else with his body. He didn't want Noah to miss the next train, but he did want Noah's company for as long as possible. Luke hadn't changed much in the years they hadn't seen each other.

Noah just looked steadily back at Luke till he gave in and turned back around. When Luke stepped onto the street, however, he twisted sharply and flattened his hand against Noah's chest. The brunette stood looking up at Luke, held one step below him. Luke's eyes bore into his own, that golden brown picking up tinges of orange street lamp.

Noah looked down at Luke's hand, where it pressed against his chest, warm and open, fingers stretched. Then he gazed back up at Luke.

Those inviting eyes had glazed over. Neither man heard the sound of the light traffic on the streets around them.

"You have to go," Luke whispered, his throat tightening. "Go now…or…"

"Or?" Noah didn't know where his voice came from, but it appeared without his permission, pushing for Luke's answer.

Luke stared back at him, his bottom lip falling slightly apart from his top. His eyes bathed Noah's lips, then shifted back up to his crystal blue eyes. His hand did not increase in pressure, but Noah's awareness of it still attached to his chest made it feel as though Luke was slowly pushing his lungs agonizingly into his spine. It was an oddly pleasurable feeling that Noah had forgotten existed whenever Luke had touched him in the past.

Noah tried to take the last step up towards Luke, but Luke's arm remained taut, restraining Noah in his position one step below. Luke's unfinished sentence still hung in the air, and Noah tried again, pushing harder this time. Luke relented and his arm bent, allowing Noah to access the top step and finally be free from the subway exit.

Noah stepped close to Luke; so close the breeze on the street felt as though it moved around the two of them as if they were a single entity, the wind ruffling the back of Luke's hair. Luke held Noah's gaze as the man stepped up to him, angling his face up to Noah's. Luke's bottom lip still had not reconnected with his top.

Luke's body heat seemed to claw at Noah, and he felt dizzy. He stepped even closer to Luke, their stomachs pressing feather-light against one another.

"It's not working," Noah murmured, his eyes captured by the orange flecks dotting Luke's honey irises.

"What's not working?" Luke breathed out, brow furrowing. His eyes did not leave Noah's, nor did the mounting intensity within them.

Noah reached for Luke's face, cradling it in his hands. Their noses brushed. "The exercise," he whispered, then leaned in and took Luke's mouth with his own.

Luke's arms slid up around Noah's back, latching on to him. The street was quiet as they kissed urgently, lips colliding and gliding over each other, Luke gripping Noah's shirt, Noah removing one hand from Luke's face to descend slowly down his neck and then back up to his mouth. Luke held him there, both still kissing each other ardently, heatedly, forgetting about the oxygen their lungs craved and the distance that time had put between them in their lives.

When they finally pulled their mouths away, Luke and Noah remained pressed against one another, clinging at the top of the stairwell at the entrance to the A, C, E subway line. Both men breathed heavily, their lungs burning with joy at the oxygen now flooding their bodies. Noah leaned his forehead against Luke's.

"I told you," he whispered, his voice light, airy. "I told you, and it was the truth."

"What was?" Luke asked, still trying to catch his breath. He gripped the backs of Noah's hands where they rested against his face.

Noah pulled his face from Luke's. "I told you I'd never get over my first," he clarified, their eyes still in direct connection. "You were my first, Luke."

Luke bit his lip to keep his emotions in check. He nodded against Noah's forehead as he pulled the taller man's face back to his. Noah's breath breezed over Luke's face, setting him at ease.

They lingered in their position for a few moments longer, then gradually, they pulled apart. Luke still had a flight to catch in the morning, and Noah didn't want to delay him any longer. He stepped back all the way from Luke, their hands dwindling down each other's arms, skimming over one another's palms, and then finally dropping to their sides. Luke ran a shy hand through his hair, causing Noah to smile.

"I have to, uh…" Luke jerked a thumb over his shoulder much in the same fashion he had at the bar, towards the hotel across the street behind him.

Noah nodded in understanding. He took a tiny step back, preparing to turn and descend down the stairwell to catch his next train home.

"Noah?"

Luke's voice halted him instantly on the first step down. He turned his face back to the blonde's, staring up at him.

"Call me," Luke said, his mouth half-curling into a grin. His eyes still shone in the glow of the streetlights. "The next time you're filming in Oakdale, or…if you ever stop in to Illinois for a visit…or…"

Noah smiled at Luke; smiled adoringly at the man he had loved up close and from a distance and every interval in-between from the day they had met till now.

"I will," he promised.

They shared a nod, then Noah rubbed an anxious hand on his thigh and turned from Luke towards the stairs. Luke didn't watch him go; instead he turned quickly and crossed the street, heading for his hotel.

The train came quickly again, much to Noah's continued amazement. As he climbed on and sat on the bench, a grin slid over his face once more. The efficient train schedule was because of Luke's presence in town - it had to be. Luke had always made everything easier for him, in life and in love. Noah raised a hand and touched his fingers to his lips, tracing over the spots where Luke's had pressed and pursued and crushed against his own so passionately.

At the hotel's lobby door, Luke stopped and took a breath, lifting a hand to his mouth. He slowly dragged his fingers over his lips and down his neck, where Noah's kisses had hungrily moistened his skin, crashed against him, mouth reverberating against his own.

Both men grinned to themselves, one on a train departing for the downtown half of the city, and one passing a keycard through the slot on the door to his rented bedroom. Both knew that another meeting was imminent; that this serendipitous occasion could not be let to waste or rot. Time heals all wounds, it was said. But love dissolves the scars, and love bridges the gaps.


End file.
